there is an intense conversation between me and the blank screen in front of me...
thoughts have entered and are hesitant to be carelessly engraved.
through the sinuous paths in this endless twenty one year journey of my life, i have found myself to be a mold i've fathomed from the beginning.
with each year, the cast had been remolded and is infinitely under reconstruction. 

i am truly an artist.
i've come to terms that i would rather live in a world with no responsibilities.
a world where today the walls that enclose my room would be blue
and the next day it would be red, for blue was no longer the color i was feeling.
my studio is incredibly random. i get excited with every new idea, then before i see it through, i move onto another one.
nothing is ever complete, but there are those rare times that i will get interested in the same thing again and it would come further along than any of the other preliminary ideas. 

if i could have my way, i would be living in either france or san francisco (maybe new york, i'm still contemplating this city).  
i'd take a walk everyday, maybe one day i'd photograph my path, or perhaps just visually record what the experience was like. 
i'd buy different flowers, flowers that fit the color of the day,
and i'd paint to my heart's content to the playlist of my choice.
i live too much by feeling and in the end it screws me over.
the world is real, and these romantic notions of mine
to you are frivolous.